A Cosy Candlelit Christmas: A wonderfully festive feel good romance (An Unforgettable Christmas Book 2)

by Tilly Tennant

  ‘It would be good to get to know my new sister,’ she said. ‘I know things are still strange, but perhaps in time they will be easy, as with all sisters.’

  Isla stalled. ‘I don’t know, I… well, I’m quite tired, you know. And it’s dark and cold, and I’m worried that the snow will get heavy again. I would really rather get back to the hotel if you don’t mind.’ She looked up at Seb, who smiled, happy, it seemed, to acquiesce to whatever plan for the evening she had in mind.

  ‘I understand,’ Celine said. ‘Perhaps we will see you tomorrow then? For lunch?’

  ‘Well, I was going to have lunch with Seb… as he’s here alone…’ she said, noting the thinly disguised look of disappointment on Ian’s face. Isla guessed he was hurt that she didn’t want to spend Christmas lunch with him. After all, they’d missed the last twenty-four Christmases and it hadn’t been completely his fault. But the situation was just too prickly at the moment, and as she thought about Seb standing silently beside her, she realised she really did want to spend it with him, not just as a necessity, but as an event she had a feeling she might enjoy.

  ‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ Seb put in. ‘I can sit with Dahlia and keep her company if you want to go to dinner with your family.’

  ‘We would like that, wouldn’t we?’ Celine said, glancing at her family members in turn. It was clear also that they wanted her but the invitation for dinner didn’t extend to Seb. What Isla had said was true; she didn’t want to leave him alone and she wasn’t enamoured with the idea of lunch with the McCoys. She didn’t feel like she could refuse now, though.

  ‘OK,’ Isla said. ‘Thank you, lunch would be nice.’

  ‘Fantastic!’ Celine smiled. ‘One more place is no problem!’

  Isla took a moment to assess the situation. Celine seemed pretty genuine despite what Justin had told her. Perhaps her intentions hadn’t been completely bad when she’d employed Justin to charm Isla. Perhaps she had only panicked about losing their inheritance and had seen a way to solve that problem – perhaps she hadn’t seen anything wrong in it. Likewise, now that she looked at Natalie, Isla was inclined to trust Grover’s judgement on her integrity. In an instant she’d made a decision to put Ian and Benet to the test.

  ‘I’m glad I’ve caught you actually,’ she said to Ian. ‘I wanted to ask you something. What do you think about me renting Grandma Sarah’s house out when I’m not here?’ Isla tried to sound casual, her gaze flicking from him to Benet, watching closely to gauge her brother’s reaction. ‘Would I be allowed to do that?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Ian replied. ‘It’s going to be your house after all. Want me to ask Grover about it?’

  ‘So you think it’s a good idea?’

  ‘If it means maintaining a link to St Martin for you, then I think it’s a brilliant idea. It would solve your problem of affording the upkeep of the house and it would mean you’d have it there to use whenever you wanted. Be a nice income too, I expect, a house that size. Life-changing perhaps, and I’d rather see you do that than sell it, if I’m honest. I’d be happy to keep an eye on things from this end and make sure your customers behaved while they were there.’

  Ian looked genuinely pleased, which was more than could be said for Benet. There was no way her dad had any inkling that Grandma Sarah’s house was already down to make a nice income for someone – just not her. The idea was one that made her happy and by airing the proposal now it meant that Benet had also been given a warning shot across his bows. If he didn’t already know she was on to him (and she didn’t think he did at the moment) he would realise that his scam would have to be wrapped up anyway.

  What she’d wanted more than anything, though, was to know that it hadn’t been her dad. Benet shifted, his gaze dropping to his feet. It was evidence enough to convince her that Grover was right.

  ‘Let me know what you decide about that and I’ll do whatever I can to help.’

  ‘Thanks, I’d appreciate that.’

  Ian smiled and this time it was warm and genuine. Celine looked relieved and wrapped her arms around Natalie as Benet continued to look at his shadow across the snow.

  ‘And the house would always be there for you when you visit,’ Celine said.

  ‘You want me to visit again then?’ Isla asked. ‘I’d have thought you’d have had your fill this time around.’

  ‘More than anything,’ Ian said. ‘And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I came to England to see you?’

  ‘I’m sure it wouldn’t be terrible,’ Isla smiled. ‘I could probably spare half an hour sometime for you as long as I can keep you off Mum’s radar.’

  ‘Half an hour is all I need,’ he said. ‘I know I’ve been a terrible father, but…’ He waved a hand to silence her argument. ‘There’s no way of getting around that. But now you’re back in my life I want to keep it that way. I can’t make up for all the years I was missing but I can make whatever we have left count. If that’s what you want.’

  ‘I do. I’d like that very much.’

  He reached to give her a tentative kiss on the cheek. But then she pulled him into a hug, completely taken by surprise when sudden tears burned her eyes and fell quickly onto his coat.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, pulling away and rubbing furiously at her eyes. ‘I don’t know why I’m being so stupid about it.’

  ‘You’re not,’ he said, catching a tear with his thumb. ‘You’ve never been stupid about anything in your entire life. I’m the one who’s been stupid.’

  ‘Well, it looks as if you’re stuck with me now then. So there’s your reward.’

  ‘It’s a happy day,’ Celine said. ‘Perhaps from now we can be good friends.’

  ‘I’d like that,’ Isla said, her eyes blurring again. She rubbed a hand across them. Perhaps, in time, even Benet would accept her into the family, but for now she was happy to make progress with Celine and Natalie at least.

  Benet stepped forward and said something to his mother in French and she nodded shortly before turning to Isla. ‘We must leave you now – we have a function to attend.’

  ‘Of course,’ Isla said.

  Celine stepped forward and kissed her on both cheeks, and Isla was content to let her this time. ‘Goodnight, Isla.’

  ‘Goodnight.’ Isla glanced at Ian.

  He nodded at her and Seb in turn. ‘Goodnight. Merry Christmas. In fact, I wish you many merry Christmases. All the Christmases we’ve ever missed.’

  Isla had no way of speaking through the lump in her throat. She nodded and smiled as her eyes burned. Ian paused as he looked at her, almost said something else, but then he turned and walked away, rubbing his own eyes as he went.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Seb asked as they made their way back through the drifts. Snow was still falling but now it was pretty and Christmassy. Isla realised, somewhere in the periphery of her thoughts, that she probably could have gone home today after all. So why had she let her dad and everyone else persuade her so easily not to? Was it, perhaps, because she wanted to stay? Perhaps she wasn’t ready to let go of St Martin and its residents just yet? There was no doubting that this Christmas would be like no other – it would be infinitely more peaceful for a start. No nagging from her more overbearing female relatives, no strict timetable to be here at this time, there at that, dinner to be finished in time for the afternoon movie. No rain outside, no rolling of eyes as the neighbours got drunker and louder, no knocking on the wall at 11 p.m. when the party really kicked in, no constantly trying to please her mum and failing at every hurdle. Here it was just her and whomever she chose to let in. If not for Seb, perhaps she would even have been happy enough to spend it completely alone.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by an arm round her shoulder and she realised that, in his own adorably awkward way, Seb was trying to comfort her, mistaking her silent musing for distress. It didn’t matter where the gesture had come from – she liked it.

  ‘It must have been difficult for you back there,’ he said, ‘knowing what you know a
bout your family now.’

  ‘I’m OK,’ she said. ‘In fact, I feel quite calm about it for the first time. I trust Grover to sort things and it looks as though Benet has got the message that, even if I don’t know about his scheme, he won’t be able to rent a house I’m already renting out.’

  ‘Are you going to tell your dad?’

  ‘Not yet. Not until I’m sure it’s the right thing to do. It may never be the right thing to do and then I suppose I’ll never tell him.’

  ‘That’s very noble of you.’

  ‘I suppose it must be. Not like me at all.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know… I think you could be very noble. You must be to take all that’s happened to you here and still have the capacity to forgive.’

  They lapsed into silence and the snow creaked beneath their steps. Seb moved his arm and let it dangle to his side again, and Isla wondered how he would react if she reached for his hand. What about if she kissed him? He had once liked her, she knew it instinctively, but did he still? Or did he just see her as a friend in need? Perhaps that was exactly what she was – she certainly came with enough baggage.

  The warm orbs of streetlamps that lit the way suddenly went out, plunging the town into darkness. Along the rows of wooden houses, the only lights were candles in the windows. Isla halted and she sensed Seb do the same beside her. A moment later he produced a hefty torch and switched it on.

  ‘Took a spare from the store cupboard at the hotel before we left,’ he said in answer to her silent question.

  ‘Lucky,’ Isla replied, and they began to walk again. Less than five seconds later they both stopped again at the same time and turned to look at each other, the realisation hitting them both at the same instant.

  ‘Dahlia!’ Seb exclaimed, and he grabbed her hand as they broke into a run.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  They were laughing, breathless and soaking wet as they arrived back at Residence Alpenrose. Just as they reached the entrance, the lights went on in the town. But they made their way back to the basement again and found Dahlia coming up the steps.

  ‘Looks like I didn’t need it after all,’ she said. ‘Which was just as well as I was having a devil of a time with that lever.’

  ‘Why on earth don’t you ask for help?’ Seb chided.

  ‘Disturb my guests? I couldn’t do that.’

  Seb clicked his tongue as they exchanged glances.

  ‘Perhaps we need brandy now,’ Isla said, kicking chunks of compacted snow from her boots before walking into the main reception of the hotel. Dahlia went back to tend the bar. ‘Like you get from those dogs who rescue people.’

  ‘St Bernards?’

  ‘Those, yes. Do they even exist?’

  ‘I’m sure they do,’ Seb grinned.

  ‘But do they actually rescue people with barrels of brandy around their neck?’

  ‘That I couldn’t tell you – I’ve certainly never seen it happen. We’ll have to quiz Dahlia on it.’

  ‘I’m sorry I won’t be around much tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I had wondered if we might do Christmas lunch together but… You understand, don’t you?’

  ‘Absolutely. We hardly know each other and he’s your dad. Of course you must go to lunch there.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to, but then he looked so disappointed that I thought…’

  ‘Please, don’t feel you need to explain. We’ll get a drink in the evening if you manage to get back.’

  ‘I will,’ Isla said. ‘That sounds good.’

  As they passed the door to the bar Dahlia was serving drinks to a middle-aged couple and laughing uncontrollably as she did.

  ‘Looks like she’s been having a few herself,’ Isla said.

  ‘God, and she went down to the generator like that. I hadn’t even noticed she was half-cut,’ Seb said, and Isla turned to see he’d gone pale.

  ‘She manages all the time you’re not here,’ Isla replied gently. ‘Which is quite a lot of the year.’

  ‘I know, but…’

  ‘It’s sweet. That you worry about her. You worry about everyone. Your parents did a good job.’

  He seemed to wince at this, but it was fleeting and Isla couldn’t be sure she’d seen it at all. Then he smiled. ‘We could get a drink… a nightcap. If you’re not too tired that is. I know you said to your dad…’

  ‘I don’t know. The bar seems sort of busy.’ It wasn’t that the bustle of the bar was a problem on any other day, but Isla had to admit to being emotionally exhausted. It was hard to believe that only that morning she’d been due to fly back to England, ready to see her mum and get back to normality. Now she was here in St Martin and her life seemed to be moving at a pace she could barely keep up with.

  ‘We could take something back to our room then.’

  Our room. It sounded funny when he said it like that, as if they were a proper couple.

  ‘Just one.’ She smiled. ‘And maybe we could finish watching that DVD too, if the power holds out.’

  It had been weird, getting ready for sleep with another person in the room. They’d finished their DVD together, sharing a bottle of house red, and Seb had gently chided Isla for not saying earlier she wanted to go to bed when she’d begun to nod off beside him. There was a moment when she pretended to insist that he take his bed back and let her sleep on the sofa, but they both knew that he would never do that.

  And so now she lay in the darkness, listening to him breathe. They’d turned out the lights over two hours ago, but despite her tiredness earlier on, she was wide awake. The bed was soft and comfortable but it felt somehow vast and too empty. Outside there was only profound silence. It was Christmas Eve. What would she be doing at home? Zonked, that was for sure, not lying awake listening to a man she barely knew breathing softly.

  Unable to stand it any longer, she dropped out of bed and padded to the window. The weather had deteriorated again. There were little snowy mounds everywhere that probably contained cars, and flakes as big as her fist blowing down in dense bursts, high winds gusting the eddies in all directions. There were no stars in the sky, only a heavy, featureless blanket of dark cloud.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Seb’s voice came from the sofa.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’ Isla let the curtain drop back into place.

  ‘I wasn’t asleep.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  ‘I guessed that,’ he said, sitting up. ‘Is there something the matter?’

  ‘No, I was just restless, that’s all.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I don’t know…’ She shrugged. ‘It’s Christmas Eve. Looking out for Santa.’

  He let out a chuckle. ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘As a kid I could never sleep on Christmas Eve. I always thought my dad might come back… you know, to see me because it was a special day. When other kids looked for Santa I looked out for him, walking up the drive of our house. But he never did.’

  ‘That’s tough,’ he said quietly, a sudden tenderness in his tone that might have made her cry, even if the thought of all those years without her dad didn’t. She tried not to dwell on it.

  ‘I suppose so, though I haven’t thought of it in a long time now.’

  ‘You have him now, though. So I suppose this one Christmas your wish came true.’

  ‘I suppose it has. Funny, it doesn’t feel quite like I thought it would.’

  ‘How did you imagine it?’

  ‘Easier than this. Less scary. Like we’d slip into the father–daughter vibe as if we’d never been parted. And it would be just me and him, not complicated by half-brothers and sisters and stepmothers. I suppose that’s just life, isn’t it? I was being silly.’

  ‘You were a child – you can be forgiven.’

  ‘And what about now? I’m not a child now.’

  ‘No. But that child is always in there, isn’t she? Just as it is in all of us. The things that occupied your childish thoughts never really leave you.’

&
nbsp; Isla went back to the bed and perched on the edge. She looked across to see his silhouette in the dim light from the window and had the sudden urge to go and fold herself into his arms and snuggle on the sofa with him. But that was just her uncertain, new-found vulnerability talking.

  ‘I bet your parents are lovely,’ she said. ‘They must be if they made you. Do you have brothers, sisters? You never did tell me.’

  ‘There’s just me,’ he said. ‘Do you want a warm drink?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Something to help you sleep?’

  ‘I think you need it more than me?’

  ‘It’s nothing out of the ordinary; I’m often awake during the night.’

  ‘Thinking about rocks and ice?’

  ‘Something like that. So, do you?’

  ‘We can’t wake Dahlia – it’s not fair.’

  ‘We wouldn’t have to. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if we helped ourselves and asked her to put it on the tab tomorrow.’

  ‘As long as you’re sure she’ll be OK with it.’

  ‘I can’t imagine her being mad.’

  ‘I can’t imagine her being mad about anything. She’s the loveliest woman on earth.’

  Seb chuckled. ‘True.’ The next minute the room was flooded with light as he switched the lamp on. He was before her, sitting up on the sofa wearing a T-shirt and boxers, and it was strange to see him without a tie and sweater, like she wasn’t looking at the same Sebastian at all. ‘How do you feel about cocoa?’ he asked.

  ‘Cocoa’s good.’